Sine Qua Non
by Samael17
Summary: Elia is a self-proclaimed master thief. Moirric is an object that everyone wants at any cost. After taking a contract, Elia is forced to decide whether to pass this object on to it's new master or to set it free. Little does she know that her decision would impact the rest of her life.
1. Epilogue

Epilogue

Elia slowly climbed the steps leading up to the Chantry and took in her surroundings. The Chanter's Board stood just across the Chantry's door, a statue of Andraste replaced one of a late Howe, and below life in Amaranthine moved forward. Elia approached the statue and knelt before it, giving a prayer that this wasn't a set up and that the Maker would look upon her actions with clemency.

Footsteps soon approached the Chantry. Raising her head slightly, Elia peeked at the stranger and sighed. A cloaked figure calmly came up the stairs and looked around. Upon spotting Elia, the figure sat at the bench closest to the steps. Here was her employer. Finally. No doubt a noble would need to conceal their identity when meeting a thief they mean to hire. Elia sat with the figure, who wasted no time commencing their meeting.

"There's an object I must have. Bann Franderel keeps it locked in his dungeon when he isn't using it." An aged female voice came from within the hood.

"What is it? What does it look like? I need more information than that." Elia glanced around cautiously.

"I only know that it's the only thing in the dungeon, guarded." She paused. "And that it's quite beautiful."

Elia sighed. This was hardly anything more than an errand, but who was she to complain when the pay was well worth it: 100 sovereign donation to the Chantry and 10 sovereigns to fill her coin purse. It was easy money. Elia laughed inwardly in disbelief, the things nobles do with their money. If she was willing to pay so much for it, why not buy it and be done with it? She stood up.

"I'll deliver it to you as soon as I get it. Next time, we meet on the farms outside of the city gates. I'll send word for you to meet me once I arrive, until then Bann Esmerelle."

Esmerelle let out the slightest gasp as Elia walked passed her and down the steps. She needed to put some distance between herself and the Chantry. She should have denied the request to meet there, but Maker knew she needed the money. Elia crossed the threshold out of Amaranthine and was instantly relieved. She half expected an ambush as soon as she came close to the gates, no doubt the guards would have orders to not interfere, but that was her paranoia getting the best of her.

Elia had her horse waiting for her on a farm not far from the gates. She handed the farmer 10 silvers for caring for her beast. After patting it's neck, she mounted it and turned toward The North Road. It would be some time before they would reach West Hill, the haunted fortress, and daylight was quickly fading.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Elia stepped to the edge of her concealment. Peering around the corner, she had finally come across guards. The pair quietly chatted at the end of the alley, completely unaware of the girl watching them from the shadows. She had sneaked into West Hill relatively easily with no sight of patrolling guards until now. She held her breath for a moment, a silent prayer, and stepped out.

"And here I thought tonight was going to be boring." Her voice was calm, even as the guards turned to face her. Elia's heart pounded in her ears as the guards drew their weapons and began slowly walking towards her. She waited until they had taken a few more steps before she spoke again.

"Draw your last breath, my friends, cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand," The guards came closer as she spoke chuckling at her words, until a cloud of smoke caused their eyes to become heavy and they fell to the ground, "and be forgiven."

Elia held her breath and jumped through the cloud. She ran to the edge of the alley and sighed in relief. The cloud would linger only for moments longer so she had to move quickly. She scanned the area for more guards but there were none in her path. The bulk of the guards were closer to Bann Franderel's castle than the separate dungeon. Elia crossed the main road and hid behind the building's southern face.

Gaining some footing on a crate, she lifted herself to a window and peered inside. A lone guard paced inside, clearly uncomfortable, but whether it was because he was alone or what he was guarding Elia couldn't tell. She lowered herself and checked her surroundings again. The only way in was the front door, it was a huge risk and also presented her with an unpleasant task: she would have to kill the guard.

She watched him again, counting his steps and taking note of how long it took for him to turn. As he stepped towards the door, Elia leapt into action, she would have precious few seconds to execute this cleanly. Elia turned the corner and opened the door slowly, he had just turned away. She stepped into the building and followed behind the man; he was sweating and seemed on the verge of madness. She closed the gap between them.

As the guard turned to repeat his stride, Elia's dagger flashed before him and slit his throat. His brows knotted together, this girl wasn't here before, surely she was a ghost. Elia frowned and lowered her head as the guard clasped his hands at his throat and fell to the ground. His eyes accusing her until the light finally faded from them. Elia searched him only for the keys to the dungeon below and left, her heart was heavy.

The door to the dungeon creaked loudly as she pushed it open. The stairs leading down looked worn and close to crumbling. Elia slowly descended into the dungeon and cringed at the scent. It smelt like urine, feces, and a number of other things she didn't want to figure out. What madness would cause a noble to put something of value into this place? There were a number of cells, yet only one was occupied. Not by an object but by a man.

Elia looked around confused. He was the only one down here, not including his cell or ragged clothes, Maker be damned if his smallclothes were the target. Bann Esmerelle said it was an object, something beautiful, but nothing in this dungeon even seemed to resemble her description. She must have had terrible information, or someone beat Elia to her prize. The children of the Chantry would have to go without for now.

Elia stepped in a little further, the man was slouched in the corner of his cell, dead or asleep she couldn't tell. A jug of water stood just out of arms reach from his prison a sort of cruel torture. She walked over to the jug and slid it just inside his cage. Before she could pull her arm out, the man sprung to life. Elia struggled to suppress a scream as the man gulped the water greedily. She knelt in front of his cell as he looked up at her from the jug. As their eyes met he quickly looked back down, all she noticed was a flash of aquamarine.

"Thank you." The man said. His voice was deep but slightly muffled by the jug.

"What did you do to get stuck in here and with this treatment?" Elia asked as she eyed the steps leading out of the dungeon.

"I would not exorcise a demon that was not there."

Elia's mind was now intrigued. He had to be a mage or possibly of the Chantry. The Templars would kill Bann Franderel if they found out. "What's your name?"

He drank from the jug. "What's a name?"

Elia was taken aback. "There's no way you don't know what a name is! A name is something people call you. A way for you to know they are talking to you." She pointed to the metal bars. "These would be called bars and, in your case, your cage."

"Then my name is Thing." The man spoke frankly before sitting in the corner again.

Elia didn't know whether he was joking or being serious. "Fine have it your way. I'm Elia." She stood up. "If you like, I could spring you from here and you'd be as free as a bird in the wilds."

"My master would look for me and drag me back."

"Master?! You're a slave?" Elia was instantly angered.

"I'm an object to be owned. Only people can be slaves." He looked up at Elia again. His eyes briefly locked with hers before darting back down. This was something he believed.

"I can't tell you how wrong you are, buddy." Elia began testing the keys to the cell. "If I were to leave you here what would the Maker think of me?"

The man tilted his head back and sighed to himself. This woman, something was different about her. She treated him as a person, something must be wrong with her eyes. It was seconds before he heard the cell door creak open and seen her standing in front of it triumphantly. Was she to be his new master? She didn't look like any of the others that had owned him and seemed angered by the thought of him being owned.

"Now before I get you out of here for good I need some information." He nodded. "I was sent here to steal something from Ban Franderel, something that was supposed to be the only thing down here. Do you have any idea what that may be?"

He thought for a moment. "Since he bought me, I've been the only thing down here, everything was moved out. Nothing is stored here."

"Did you see what they moved out of here? Maybe it was here before you."

The man shook his head. "The only thing they removed from here was corpses."

"Damn." Elia stepped aside. "Looks like I'll have to request more information or cancel the job."

He stood up and approached Elia. His was unsure if this was some test or if he was really changing hands. Whoever this woman was, she seemed like she would be a better master than Franderel. There was strength and kindness in her, merciless yet compassionate; he would be at better use with her than any of his other masters. She would have no say in it unless she handed him over to someone else.

"Stay close to me unless I tell you otherwise. Stay low and behind as much cover as possible. We may be swarmed as soon as we leave, be alert." Elia lead him up the steps hoping he also understood the gravity of the situation. She took the silence between them as an understanding.

Elia gradually opened the dungeon's door and glanced out. Guards were huddled together, looking around nervously a few steps from their exit. Further down their path was another group of guards, but they were headed back to the castle. This group would be their first obstacle and hardly one at that. Before she would make her move, Elia retrieved a flask from her belt and waited until the second group was back in the castle.

She swung the door open and began speaking as the flask flew towards the guards. "Touch me with fire that I may be cleansed!" The guards turned too late and were set ablaze. Their screams were the only thing that chased Elia and the prisoner as they ran towards the gate.

"How do we get out of the gate?" The man asked as he ran beside Elia.

"My employer was prepared. A guard at the gate is our ticket out -" An arrow whistled in between her and the man cutting her off. She stopped and turned as one guard nocked another arrow and his companion drew his sword.

"Damn." Elia drew her daggers and was about to charge when the man stepped in front of her and pointed to the guards. Two figures ran passed Elia towards the guards. They were transparent and had an ethereal glow around them. Elia nearly dropped her daggers as the figures attacked the guards.

"They won't last long." The man said totally unaffected by the scene playing out before them.

Elia sheathed her daggers and continued to the gates, turning for a moment to see the beings strike down the guards before finally disappearing. She was too confused to say anything, yet this man was acting as if this was normal. Was it his doing or some divine intervention? There was something very off about this man and his detached demeanor, but what it was that stood out Elia couldn't figure out.

They reached the gate and as promised a lone guard was there. He opened the gates as they neared and stepped out alongside them. "I will be going to Amaranthine. You got what you came for," he eyed the prisoner with disgust, "don't keep her waiting long for her prize."

Elia grew angry. "Tell her the contract is cancelled." The guard raised his eyebrows and sighed walking towards Amaranthine.

Elia turned and walked away to reunite with her steed, the man was close behind her. She had questions, lots of them, not to mention an anger burning within her. The nobles were toying with a slave, who was most likely brought to Ferelden from Tevinter or some other nation that still allowed people to be bought and sold. She wouldn't be a pawn in their game for control over a slave.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

It wasn't long before they crossed the River Dane and were in the woods approaching Elia's hidden camp. Now far from West Hill, she was teeming with questions, questions that would be answered tonight before she even considered turning this guy loose. She looked back at the man she was about to set free.

He was tall and thinner than most men, no doubt not being properly fed. His hair and beard grew out of control and were large tangled messes. It was the way he carried himself that Elia noticed the most. He wouldn't look her in the eye for long; he followed a few steps behind her and always looked at the ground. This prisoner, this slave, was conditioned to believe that he was an object and not a man.

The man watched Elia as she began setting up for a fire. He went over to her. "I can do this for you." He began arranging the stones in a circle.

"Okay then." Elia began gathering firewood, but could feel the man's gaze burning into her.

He approached her again, this time grabbing the bundle of sticks she was carrying. "I'll do this."

Elia didn't release the bundle. "You're not my slave!"

"Then what shall you have me do?" His voice calm and his eyes locked onto the bundle.

"I don't know just go sit or something." Elia pulled the bundle out of his hands and continued to gather more sticks. The man returned to the camp and sat by the fire pit.

Before long Elia had returned and started the fire. They sat in silence for a few moments. The man stared into the fire avoiding Elia who was looking at him as if his appearance would give her some hint as to who he was and where he was from. He wondered about her just as much as she wondered about him. She was the polar opposite of anyone he had met before.

"Where are you from? I can't place your accent." Elia finally spoke.

"Where I was born, I don't know. I do know that my master took me west into Tevinter. From there, I traded hands numerous times and was stolen by Franderel from my Orlesian master, but the majority of my life was in Tevinter."

"Why you let them treat you so badly?"

"An object, a tool, cannot rebel against its master."

"You are not an object or a tool!" Elia's anger burst through. "You are a man capable of far more than you've been made to believe."

"We'll see."

"We're going to the docks on Lake Calenhad tomorrow. After that, you're free to go wherever you please. You'll be a free man." Exasperated, Elia reached into her pack and shared some rations with the man. "Are you going to tell me your name now?"

The man began shoveling the food into his mouth making Elia wait for an answer. "I don't have one."

Elia stayed quiet the remainder of the night. The man offered to stay up for the first watch and left her suspicious. As she crawled into her tent, she wondered if he had planned to rob her and leave during the night. He wouldn't get far and hopefully he wouldn't go back to West Hill after all the trouble she went through to free him. She snuggled into her bedroll hoping he wouldn't run off and then sleep finally took over.

Elia woke up suddenly and checked herself: coin purse, check; weapons, check; life, check. She opened the tent and looked outside; the man covered the fire and was petting the horse. He had stayed through the night and didn't wake her. She stepped out of the tent and approached him.

"He's a magnificent beast isn't he?" Elia rubbed the horse's neck. "I've had him since I left the Chantry. I was lucky to find such a loyal steed."

"You take care of him better than most care for their servants. We are the lucky ones."

"We?" Elia stared at the man.

"If you take such care of your horse I can only hope for the same treatment, if that's not too bold to say."

"I'll treat you as what you are. He is a horse, so I treat him as a horse." The man sighed and closed his eyes. "You are a man and I'll treat you as such." Elia left and began packing her tent and bedroll. Her words left the man confused, but when it was time to leave he followed her.

They traveled in total silence until they had reached the docks. The Circle of Magi stood proudly out of Lake Calenhad's waters leaving the man breathless. This wasn't the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, but it was a contender. They followed the path downhill to a nearby inn. Elia left her horse outside and went in with the man. The inn was somewhat small and was practically empty. Elia bought two cups of ale and sat with the man at a table.

"You need a name. I can't stand thinking of you as someone without a name." She finally said after taking a drink of her ale. "Were you educated at least?"

The man shook his head as he drank.

"So there's nothing you know about? No famous heroes or people you look up to?"

"I was beaten for having a servant recite tales of your Rebel Queen and her son."

"Why about them?" Elia thought that this may be a key finding a name for this newly freed man.

"Your late queen fought to reclaim what was hers despite her army being outnumbered. Her son also fought even when he knew little to nothing about leading an army. Their drive to overcome the impossible gave me," he paused and looked at Elia before looking back down, "hope for something better."

"Queen Moira and Prince Marric." Elia said the names to herself. The man looked at her as she stared at her ale. Her eyes were filled with determination and concentration and her hair threatened to obscure her face as she thought to herself. She looked up and their eyes met, hazel-brown on aquamarine, but he quickly looked back down. "You can look at me. You are, after all, a free man now." He looked at her again studying her face, but his eyes always traveled to meet with hers.

Almost instantly, Elia's face began to flush. "So," she said nervously, "how about a combination of the two?" She looked down at her ale and drank. "Something strong, a name that can be recognized and something you can grow into."

The man nodded and watched her think. Elia could feel the pressure from his gaze and felt rushed. Her thoughts began to stumble over each other and she took a breath to calm herself. Only one name kept coming to her over and over again no matter how many times she tried to shake it.

"How about Moirric?" Elia said quickly, not looking at the man.

He sat quietly for a while before finally speaking. "That will be my name?"

"If you want it, you have the final say in whether it is or not. If you don't like it we can think of something different."

The man thought carefully. He would be getting a name and he could choose it. Elia was serious when she said she was going to free him. Moirric, that name felt respectable, like a name people would say and remember a man of honor and pride. He wanted to be able to become a man worthy of carrying that name. A smile touched his lips and he drank what was left of his ale.

"When will I be able to use that name?"

"Now if you like it." Elia said surprised.

"I can't look like this and carry such a noble name." He looked at his clothes; they were covered in dirt and holes.

"That can be fixed." Elia took the empty cups to the innkeeper and gave him some coins. She motioned to Moirric for him to follow the burly man as he went upstairs.

Elia sat alone at her table occasionally sipping her drink and thought about the man now named Moirric. For a long time she sat in total silence, her eyes fixated on a spot on the table. The lines in the table distracted her; she followed one line to the next, back and forth, over and over. The dark brown of the table was contrasted by the light brown lines creating odd shapes and patterns.

Moirric sat at the table and Elia blinked to cut away from her reverie. Moirric had shaved and cut his hair. His dark hair was combed back and his sideburns ended just above his strong jaw. His face was blank, the perfect façade of calm and concentration, but his eyes silently called for approval. Elia was stunned for a moment, but managed a smile that caused some of his tension to lift.

"Now that face screams 'Moirric'." Elia became entranced by his eyes.

"One of my Orlesian master's groomed me like this. It felt… familiar." Moirric's eyes became clouded by the emotions of that memory. Whether it was sadness or fondness Elia couldn't tell and his face gave her no hints.

"Did any of them treat you well?" Elia was saddened by the thought of him not knowing any sort of kindness his entire life.

"There was the master that first stole me from Tevinter. She was not as severe as the others," Moirric paused, "but she used me in ways the others hadn't."

"What do you mean?" Moirric looked at her.

"My masters always found ways to use my abilities. She used my abilities and then used me." There was a cold indifference to his memory.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up." Elia looked down and felt the gravity of what he had revealed.

"Don't apologize. I told you I'm a tool for my masters to use as they see fit. She seen a new way to use me and she did."

"I can promise you that nothing like that will ever happen to you again unless you want it to." Elia's anger welled up inside of her. He couldn't be blamed; he had no idea what was going on and had no choice. She could at least give him that now.

"I figured that you're some type of mage. I haven't had much interaction with many mages, but judging on all these people that want you, and what you did at West Hill, I take it your no ordinary mage. The Chantry would say it's my duty to hand you over to the Templars, but I'm not going to do that." They stared at each other for a moment. "I'm going to Denerim tomorrow and you're welcome to come with me, as a traveling companion and NOT a slave." She added with extra emphasis. "So you can decide if you want to go to the Circle or come with me. If you do come with me however, you will be branded as an apostate and we will always be in danger."

"Why don't you tell me where to go?" Moirric asked.

"You're a freeman now. You get to choose where you go from here; you decide on everything that happens in your life from this point on. I'm not your master and no one ever will be again unless you let them."

Moirric looked down, his face as calm as ever, but in his mind he was torn. He was getting to choose whether he went with her or went to a Circle. He had seen how mages were treated in the Circles in Orlais: Templars bully mages out of fear or some twisted sense of superiority. Then mages are blamed when they turn to demons to try and protect themselves. Moirric knew nothing of being a freeman, though.

"You don't have to decide now." Elia's voice cut through his cluttered thoughts. "You can tell me tomorrow before I leave." She smiled at him.

She was an enigma. Elia didn't belong in the world, at least not the one he knew. She was so different from everyone else he had come across and she was confusing. Everything she done was puzzling to him: her kindness, sympathy, and now, the choices she was giving him. Moirric knew it would be easier for him if she would tell him where to go and what to do, but she was so against it. Elia the enigma, perhaps he would go with her to try to figure her out. What was it exactly that made her different from everyone else?

They finished their drinks in silence before finally heading to their rooms. Elia promised to wait for him outside of the inn until he had come to a decision. Moirric went into his room, shut the door and went over to a window. The Tower look gorgeous in the moonlight, but that was just a front hiding the ugliness within. He went to bed, his decision made, and let sleep overtake him as he thought of the Enigma next door.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The morning at Lake Calenhad was stunning and any feeling of tiredness was stolen away by the chilly air. Elia clutched her cloak tightly around her as she made her way out of the inn and to her horse, which was drinking from the lake. She whistled for him and it shook the cold from its head before making its way to her. Elia patted the horse's neck, then retrieved a brush from a saddlebag and proceeded to brush him. A morning ritual they both delighted in.

Two men emerged from the inn and looked over Elia and her horse. They rushed to a small boat on the docks and headed to the Tower. Elia's steed snorted, the beast was as smart as it was beautiful. Both had known nothing good would follow them if they lingered, Elia was left with the decision to leave Moirric or make him go with her. Luckily, the men were barely halfway to the Tower when Moirric decided to make an appearance in front of the inn.

Elia went over to him with her horse. "We have to leave now. Are you coming too?"

Moirric noticed the men paddling feverishly across the lake and looked down at Elia as she waited for his answer. Her hazel-brown eyes were tinged with worry and eagerness to leave the Calenhad Docks far behind them. "I'll go with you."

Elia mounted the stallion and held her hand to Moirric. "Have you ever ridden a horse before?" She asked as Moirric clumsily mounted the horse behind her.

He shook his head and she could feel his uneasiness.

"Hold on tight." She wrapped his arms around her waist. "He's going to take us very far, very fast."

Elia made a clicking noise and the horse began to jog forward. Once up the nearby hill, she made the noise again and the horse began to run. Moirric noted that every time she made the noise the horse would run faster until it was in a dead run, carrying them further and further from the Lake. After some time, Elia slowed the steed's pace and patted its neck. She pulled a scroll from a saddle bag and opened it, showing the contents to Moirric, who had to look over her shoulder to see what she pointed to him.

"We should be roughly around here." She pointed to a spot on the map called The Bannorn. "It'll take us a few days, but if we cut across here and get onto the road just above South Reach we should be able to make it to Denerim safely."

"Where was it that you were supposed to return me to?" Moirric asked quietly.

"Here." she pointed to a location called Amaranthine. "We could've taken this road around The Bannorn, but it takes us passed West Hill and Amaranthine. Chances are there would be patrols or stops looking for me, so I thought it would be safer to avoid them and that road for now."

Moirric stayed quiet.

"I'm not going to take you back there. You can trust me." Elia looked back at him. His aquamarine eyes bore into her trying to assess if she was telling the truth. It was easy to believe her before, but now when she brought him close to freedom he became skeptical.

"Who is your master?" Moirric looked down as Elia faced forward.

"I don't have a master."

"Then who sent you to steal me?"

Elia thought for a moment. "I guess the closest thing I have to a master is an employer, but it's still worlds apart." She took Moirric's silence for confusion. "No one can tell me what to do until we enter into a contract. I work for them, stealing what they can't get their hands on, in exchange for money. At any time I can cancel the contract and leave, but I won't get paid."

"While you're under contract they can do anything to you?"

"Not at all. They contract me to steal, no more no less." Elia smiled to herself. Was he worried the same thing had happened to her?

The pair continued in relative silence, Moirric every now and then asking trivial questions about her work and general life. Normally, she wouldn't answer any questions, come to think of it; she wouldn't have been traveling with him if they had met under any other circumstances. He knew nothing of being a free man and Elia would take it upon herself to at least show him enough to keep him out of trouble.

Elia carefully navigated The Bannorn, taking precautions to avoid any arlings and noble lands they may come across. They would have to restock at some point, Elia didn't have many rations left, she didn't plan on having company after her job was done. Her horse was also tired and running low on supplies. Soon they would either have to hunt or risk going into a town. She prayed they didn't have to do the latter.

The sun had begun to fall toward the horizon as Elia searched for an area to set up camp. The Bannorn didn't provide much cover or protection from its inhabitants, leaving Elia the only option to take to a hill in hopes of seeing an intruder before they approached. She had to help Moirric dismount, his uneasiness with the horse was still very clear, she would have to help him learn to ride.

The sky was streaked with hues of orange, yellow, blue and purple as the sun let the moon take its position. Moirric had once again set up and started a fire as Elia went for the rations. For years she had believed that having a companion would only be a burden; another mouth to feed, another back to watch, and another person to split the money with. Now, she had felt a sense of security and comfort she had never known before. Moirric elected again to take the first watch.

"Tell me about your past, Moirric." Elia sat by the fire and began eating.

Moirric studied her. Elia's hair was a reddish brown and stopped short of reaching her shoulders. Bangs cut across her face and occasionally dropped down in front of her left eye. Her skin softly glowed in the fire light and her eyes were the most brilliant eyes he had ever seen. Elia seemed to be so relaxed around him, something he was not accustomed to, and many of his masters were tense around him and took days to loosen up while he was around.

"What is it you want to know?" His voice plain as ever.

"I don't know, how about your earliest memories?" Elia watched as his eyes became entranced by the fire's dance.

"My memory is clouded to anything prior to my entering the Tevinter Imperium. My master had sold me to a man named Danarius, at this time I was no older than 11. He had many slaves and was a man of power in Tevinter. Once he bought me, he and several others began their experiments on me." Moirric paused and Elia struggled to contain her anger and sorrow. "These experiments continued for 10 more years until my new abilities shown. Master Danarius had made me able to control spirits and less powerful demons.

"Once I had finally given him what he wanted, he told me about myself. He said I was an orphan and I was sold because it was easier to sell off a problem than to fix it. According to him, my previous master didn't understand the power I could have and had referred to me as a medium. He had thought this is what brought success to his latest experiment. After he paraded me around to the others I was stolen and taken by that new master into Orlais. My time with them was short-lived as I was sold to Master Olivia.

"She was kinder than the others, but, as I said before found other ways of using me." His voice trailed off. He glanced at Elia who watched him with sadness on her face and looked back at the fire. "Although she was kind, she still made me feel like an object to be used. I had stayed with her in Orlais for 5 years until Master Franderel had a bard steal me. I have been here in Ferelden for almost a year and now you have stolen me." His cool gaze washed over her and she felt heat rise to her cheeks. "What of your past?"

Elia smiled and looked down. "At the beginning of the Blight, I was abandoned at a Chantry in a town called Lothering. I was so stubborn; whenever someone would try to take me away I would cry and flail at them, so for a while, I stayed crying at the steps of the chantry believing my parents would come back for me. The Revered Mother had sent a Templar to retrieve me, but he was met by the same stubborn little girl. Instead of leaving, he held me closely and carried me away. He was the closest thing I had to a father for the next month as we fled to Denerim.

"I stayed in the Chantry since then, but had to leave a few years later due to 'irreconcilable differences'. So I began to build my reputation as an incredibly skilled thief and had an astounding amount of work. The nobles of Ferelden love stealing from each other as well as planting incriminating evidence." Elia smiled and shook her head. "But that's me in a nut shell."

"What became of the Templar?" Moirric's eyes gave off more heat than the fire.

"He was sent away. I had always said I would find him and properly thank him for being such a great friend to me," her expression darkened, "but I must have forgotten as I worked."

"I don't believe it's too late to start searching for him." Moirric felt the urge to hold her, this woman he had barely known, had such an effect on him. He never wanted to see her eyes cloud with sadness again. Even though he wanted to comfort her, she already seemed to be guarding herself.

"Maybe I'll look into it when we are there. If I find something worth following would you come with me?"

"I don't know of another place I'd want to go." Elia's smile warmed him. That was an image he'd burn into his mind and hold dear. They finished their rations and she fell asleep as they continued to talk.

Moirric could feel the cold bite in the air and rose to take Elia into her tent. As he lifted her, he noticed how soft she was against him and how she cradled into his chest. He lingered for a moment, taking in this new experience. He wanted to hold her this way forever, to feel her small body and warmth beside him always. Moirric looked down at the serenity on her face and wondered if he'd ever be able to feel like that.

He took her into the tent and was setting her down, but lost his footing and nearly fell on her. His face was inches from hers and he could feel the slow rhythm of her breath. A heat washed over him and he instantly wanted her. Moirric didn't care to understand what was overcoming him and instantly submitted to the feeling. He leaned down eager to connect his lips to hers, but she shifted breaking him from his trance and he sat back. Moirric's sense returned to him as he left the tent and was grateful for the coldness of the air.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Did you hear? The apostate that escaped West Hill was reported near the Circle!" A short plump woman said in a hushed voice to her slender companion.

"The arrogance of these mages, can you believe it?" The slender woman said with disgust.

"And this thief, you know the one everyone says has the Maker's favor, well, in this report she was seen helping him escape!" The small woman frowned and shook her head.

"How blasphemous! They both should be hung as an example to these mages and their supporters."

Elia sipped from her cup as she listened to the women continue with their gossip. She knew that taking this path with Moirric would cause some trouble for them and, unfortunately, it was sooner than she expected. She wouldn't have guessed she would be hearing this news over ale in the Gnarled Noble Tavern or that it would be from two random women. Elia glanced up at Moirric and was surprised to see him glaring at the women.

She reached over and touched his hand causing him to looking down then at her. "It's fine." She smiled at him through her worry and the calm returned to his eyes. Elia finished her ale and stood up. "Let's go."

Moirric nodded and followed her away from their table to one of the tavern's rooms. She entered without knocking and continued to the bedroom where two men waited for them. One stood in a corner closest to the door wearing leather armor and another stood at the foot of the bed wearing regular clothing. These men made Moirric tense, he looked to Elia and seen that she hadn't changed at all, she was as calm and comfortable as ever. Was she turning him over to someone who would be his new master?

"Ah, Elia." The man quickly looked over Moirric and then to Elia and smiled. "I've heard some troubling news involving you."

"I can't imagine what scandal I've become a part of, but I'd love to settle the rumors." She said casually and shook the man's hand.

"There's talk of thieves protecting mages." He looked at Moirric again. His eyes seemed cold and filled to the brim with overconfidence. Moirric took Elia's lead, but could only feign comfort.

"That much I hear is true." She went back to Moirric's side. "Ignacio, Moirric. Moirric, Ignacio." Elia's hand rested on Moirric's back. Ignacio bowed slightly and Moirric nodded in return.

"Now," Ignacio addressed Elia again, "are you here to add to yourself to our clientele or to finally answer the job offer." His eyes glinted dangerously.

"I thought I turned you down the last time I was here." Elia said skeptically after crossing her arms.

"Turned me down? I'm afraid I can't recall." He rubbed his eyes and smiled. "The offer stands until I get the answer I want."

"You'll be waiting a long time then." She warned. "I'm actually here to restock."

"Then I must direct you to Cesar in the Market."

"You've heard the rumors. Even though no one knows what we look like, I'd prefer to be safe rather than sorry."

"A valid point." Ignacio looked at his guard who grunted before leaving the room.

While they waited, Elia explained to Moirric that Ignacio was Master assassin from Antiva. She went on to tell him that Ignacio had employed her on several occasions when killing wasn't quite necessary. Moirric had seen that Elia enjoyed talking to this man; he listened to her as she regaled him with the story of Moirric's rescue. He also noticed she left out that his power was different from other mages. Perhaps she didn't trust this man as much as she let on.

The guard returned with a small sack and handed it to Elia. She smiled paid and thanked the men and left. Ignacio gave an emotionless smile to Moirric whose façade was as calm and just as devoid of emotion. Moirric didn't know this man well, but he hated him all the same. He turned and left the room after Elia, who was already walking into the hallway before she realized Moirric wasn't behind her.

Elia paused outside of the tavern. "You need a staff, at least, that's what I hear mages need. I know just the place."

Moirric followed quietly as Elia led him around the corner and into a lonely store. The Wonders of Thedas greeted them with an eerie silence and a lone man in golden robes that stood at the store's center. The store was large and filled mainly with books and some items that seemed magical. Elia walked further into the store and up the backstairs where scrolls lay open on a table and looked around.

As she browsed, Moirric took to the bookshelves and looked over the books. His eyes ran over the glyphs on their spines. He had no idea what they said or what each book contained and he would never know since he couldn't read. Cursing his stupid self, Moirric left the books and went to the glass cases that contained large staves made of different metals. His eyes were glued to a staff that had a large cloudy blue gem at its tip.

"That's gorgeous!" Elia's excited voice nearly made him jump. "Do you want it?"

He looked at her then back at the staff. He did want it, but was it his place to request it?

"That staff is a part of a new shipment that only just arrived." The robed man's monotone voice chimed in.

"We can snatch it up now before anyone else comes in and buys it." She took the staff out of its case and examined it. The staff was an off-white color and felt incredibly light for its size. The gem itself was of a magnificent make worth at least 50 sovereigns on its own. Elia smiled at Moirric as she went to the counter and paid for everything she gathered.

"That man isn't normal." Moirric said to Elia in a hushed voice as she returned to him.

"He's a Tranquil; a mage who had been cut off from the Fade."

"What does that mean?"

Elia shifted uncomfortably. "It means he has no emotions, he doesn't dream, he can't use magic, and, more importantly, he can't hear a demon's whisper or be possessed by one."

Moirric watched the man. "Demons can possess mages?"

Elia's jaw dropped. Moirric looked at her and she knew his question was sincere. "Yes! Mages always are at risk of demonic possession which is why they are guarded by Templars. Moirric, I thought you were a mage, can't you hear them?"

His eyes became dark and he scanned the cases for something he could focus on to avoid the question.

Elia gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to say a thing if you don't want to." She waved to the shopkeeper and made her exit. Moirric stayed close behind her.

"Thank you for shopping at the Wonders of Thedas. Please come again." The man's empty eyes watched them as they left the shop.

Once outside, Elia held out the white staff for Moirric to take. He stared at it as if it was some mystical creature from another world. He knew the mages in Tevinter all had one and it focus their powers, but what good would it do him? Elia had grown impatient and thrust the staff into Moirric's hands.

"Moirric, you're not a slave anymore! You're a freeman; you should start acting like it!" Elia fumed.

Moirric's eyes became dark and she instantly wished she could take back her words. He dropped the staff and his arm circled Elia's waist pulling her body against his. Her hands were pressed against his chest, but he held her firmly. She couldn't look away from the storm that was occurring in Moirric's eyes, but at the same time she didn't want to. He leaned forward, his lips close to hers, a move that caused her to inhale sharply.

"Moirric, w-w-what are you doing?" Elia's voice was shaking.

"Is this what you want?" His words formed a dangerous question.

"Moirric." The soft plea escaped her.

He stared into her eyes and finally released her. He scooped up the staff and Elia uneasily led the way to the Chantry. The silence between them was giving Elia too much time to think, but what could she say? She rubbed her head, still unable to process what happened and what he meant of it. She frowned to herself. How many other ways could that be interpreted? She'd have to talk to him about it at some point, but for now she'd like to pretend it didn't happen.

Elia asked Moirric to wait outside of the Chantry while she talked to the Revered Mother. He walked over to a well, placed his elbows on its rim and looked into its abyss. Elia was still such a mystery to him and she had been affecting him like no other person he had ever come across. He stayed staring at his reflection in the glossy water and thought it would be better if she had just become his master. He wouldn't have to make the decisions she presented him with and he wouldn't have the time to think of her.

It wasn't long before she emerged from the Chantry and joined him at the well. "She says any records of Lothering's Chantry would be back in Lothering. They've been rebuilding ever since the Hero killed the Archdemon."

"We'll be going there then?" Moirric continued to stare at his reflection, still deep in thought.

"Yea, I guess." Elia said with fading confidence.

Moirric stood up and looked at Elia seriously. "There's something I have to do. Wait for me here."

Elia stood impatiently by the Chantry as she waited for Moirric to return. She wanted to get far away from the Chantry before someone figured out who she was, but Moirric was taking his time. She wondered what it was that he had to do when he had no money to buy anything. She thought he may have taken the staff back to the shop to get a refund and the thought instantly took her from impatience to sadness.

A few moments later, Elia noticed a man sobbing as he made his way passed the Chantry. His face was flooded with tears, but the widest grin was spread across his face. If he hadn't been making such a fuss, Elia would've never even looked at him, but he seemed overwhelmed by two conflicting emotions all at once. His golden robes glinted as he hurried by and as Elia turned back around she seen Moirric coming towards her, staff in hand.

"I'm sorry to make you wait. My business is done." His eye were full of pity but for who, Elia didn't know.

She shrugged and left Denerim's marketplace with Moirric close behind her. He didn't say a word about where he had gone or what he had done. In fact, until now he has never been silent and it seemed Elia would have to drag the words out of him. He gave the impression that he was much more willing to talk during the night, so that's when she would wait to ask him. She would have to make do with him leaving her in silence until they left Denerim and headed for the campsite they occupied the night before.


End file.
